


Hiraeth

by donnatroy



Category: Marvel, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Heartbreak, Love Confessions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, chubby!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnatroy/pseuds/donnatroy
Summary: Hiraeth is defined as homesickness tinged with grief or sadness over the lost or departed. It is a mix of longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness, or an earnest desire.Meeting in the dairy aisle isn’t what people would call romantic or would they find that as an opportunity for a romance to start between two people. But it’s different for everyone.





	Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story will take place over the events of First Class to Apocalypse.  
> The reader's mutation is metamorph or shapeshifting. The reader has the ability of Raven but doesn't have the blue or reptilian look that Raven has.  
> I really hope you guys like this! Comments and kudos are really appreciated!

You’d never expected that the reason you would meet someone in the dairy aisle of the local grocery store. You didn’t pay much mind to the taller man as you were focused on your task of grabbing the whipping cream. Even in wearing the two inch heels didn’t help you much with your task and you briefly wondered why they would put the cream on the top shelf and why the top shelf was so far up. It was totally unnecessary.

Hank didn’t know exactly how long he had been standing there, watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, amused at the sight. He saw you huff out of irritation and move as close as you could before getting up to stand on your toes, stretching out your arm as far as it could. 

It was a short time he knew that he spent on deciding if he should help as it would be nothing to him and when you stood back, heels on the ground, looking up at the cream in frustration. He didn’t really know where it came from but he cut in front of you and reached up, quickly grabbing what he hoped was the right carton. 

There was a slight protest from you but it died when he turned to face you.

“Is this the one?” he asked. 

You raised your brows involuntarily at the man that stood before you, the one you had definitely wanted to slap not even a second ago for cutting in front of you like that, because he was so beautiful. He was young, maybe twenty- the same age as yourself. You looked down, taking the sight of his hand holding the carton of cream out to you. 

He tried not to blush and instead held the carton out closer to you. Your fingers brushed gently against his knuckles as you went to take it from him.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at the small kindness the stranger had done for you.

It was captivating to watch you smile. He noticed your cheeks- already chubby- grow from the sweet smile that made your lips curl oh so beautifully.

“I’m Henry,” he said, holding out his hand once again and internally smacking himself for being so forward and why did he use his real name rather than his nickname that he much rather preferred.

“Hi, Henry,” you leaned to the side, dropping the cream in the cart you had full of food for tonight’s meal. “The name’s Y/N.”

You look down at your feet, still smiling like an idiot. Hank was sure that he had never seen someone quite as pretty as you. The way your cheeks flushed and how a strand of hair that had previously been tucked behind your hair neatly, fall into your face.

You shuffled to the side, wanting to go before it got to uncomfortable for you but yours shoes really had it out for you it seemed. The sole of your shoe caught of the linoleum floor, making you trip. You grabbed for anything to give you purchase and keep your from falling face first and embarrassing you in front of him. 

He almost died right there when you grabbed onto his bicep to stop yourself from falling further and he didn’t actually mind you grabbing onto him. It was  _ nice.  _

You looked up at him with wide eyes as you gripped harder on his bicep and  _ holy shit _ , you did  _ not _ expect to feel that. Hidden beneath his dorky clothes he was hiding some of the thickest arms you were sure you’d ever felt. 

“Are you alright?” his voice was laced with more concern than was necessary for someone he had just met and spoke to for a total of five seconds.

“Yeah,” you started looking between his eyes and where your hand was wrapped around him, “I’m fine.” 

He was sure he was staring at you and he couldn’t have found a reason to care even if it hit him in the face. Hank couldn’t find it in him to actually get you to let go of him. The constant squeeze and release of your hand was a comfort to him.

“Well, thank you again, Henry.” 

You spared one last look at him before straightening yourself back up and walking off, the handle of your cart being squeezed tightly in your grip, towards the checkout line.

As you waited behind a woman with a child on her hip, you thought about why you hadn’t used your ability to make you at least a little more attractive before going out. Then again you didn’t exactly plan on meeting and actually talking to a cute stranger. And you were entirely sure that you wouldn’t be seeing Henry again anytime soon.

Rolling through the checkout and out into the parking lot was quite a blur as the thoughts of your encounter in the store and the upcoming big day for you took over. You’d almost walked right past your car entirely with how caught up you were.

Six bags, three held in each of your hands and your purse slung over your shoulder, you came to realize was not your best idea. You didn’t even have your keys in hand and there was no was in hell you were going to put the bags down, you knew you wouldn’t have the energy to pick them back up. Why the hell were they packed so heavily in the first place? Why did you even get so much?

You struggled to look through your bag for the set of keys, juggling the heavy paper handles the dug into your fingers and hair falling into your face. 

“Damn it.” you said under your breath. 

Hank almost walked right by you but your voice saying a string of curses in such agitation caught his attention. There were only a few more cars separating him from his own and as much as he really wants to just walk past you and  _ finally  _ go home after an excruciatingly long day at work, he just can’t find it in him. And when he turns to look back at you, his heart almost skips a beat because it’s the cute girl he helped is standing right there and needs help once again. Hank sure as hell does not object to the idea of helping you once more.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to put those down?” he asks, placing his own grocery bags on the concrete ground. 

You look up, confused and totally flustered as you once again see the cute stranger- Henry- standing right in front of you with a soft smile and fuck, he’s so gorgeous. You’re at a loss for words when he reaches out and takes the bags from your hands- all six like they don’t weigh a thing- and lay them on the ground.

He can’t ever remember being so confident in himself but that vanishes the moment that you cock your head to the side, looking at him with wide eyes full of something that he can’t place. Hank starts to shuffle his feet, kicking up a few rocks in the process.

“Why are you helping me?” you squint at him, watching his movements and the creases that appear on his facial features. You can see the light flush of red appear on his cheeks as he searches for an answer. When he doesn’t say anything, you just shake your head and smile.

“It doesn’t matter. Thank you again, Henry.”

Your focus shifts from him to the very cluttered purse. You half expect him to leave while you search for the silver key but he doesn’t, he stands there. It’s odd not feeling some sort of discomfort or fear with a man- a stranger nonetheless- that could easily take you down with him. You usually scurry and hide from others but there’s something  _ comforting  _ about him. He doesn’t seem like a threat, not like the other men that wandered the streets. Henry might have been able to take advantage of you with just the flick of a wrist but he didn’t look like that kind of person, seeing as how he just stood their shuffling on his feet, hands in his pockets, a lost in thought look on his face while he bit down on his bottom lip with a soft blush dusting across his pale skin.

The jingle of keys clattering against each other snap him out of his thoughts. He almost panics because that means you are one step closer to disappearing from his life. Hank really does want to ask you out, he really does but he has no idea how to ask without coming off as a creep. He didn’t want to ruin a chance to see you again because he scared you off. But he would eventually, that was something he knew for sure.

You opened the backseat door and started to load the grocery bags when you finally say something to him.

“You know, you’ve helped me twice in the span of fifteen minutes. Maybe I could repay you?” you start but almost slap yourself when you think about what you’ve said. No going back. “Would you like to come over for dinner? I mean you’ve helped me with all this and, yeah, I have no idea how I was going to end that thought. You don’t have to say yes or anything.”

Hank almost fucking lets out a cheer because he didn’t have to ask you and he scored a (possible) date with this beautiful woman. 

“Yeah, that would,” he pauses because he simply can’t stop smiling and the relieved look on your face when he finally says something fuels something in his chest. Hope, “That would be amazing.”

“Good. So, seven thirty sharp.” 

He isn’t sure how you could fit that notebook in your purse but he doesn’t question you as you scribble down in neat cursive your address. And when you pass him the slip of paper, he realizes that this is real and that this is actually happening.

“Don’t be late.” you say with a smile before turning to open the driver side door and get into the seat, disappearing from his view.

Hank picks up his bags, the piece of notebook paper tucked carefully into his pant pocket, and walks away from the green convertible, a smile plastered on his face that no matter how hard he tries to get rid of it, just won’t vanish.

He wears it like a badge of honor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
